There's Only So Much That I Can Take
by Immersion
Summary: Stefan visits Damon when he hears of Rose's death. He doesn't understand his brother's behavior. Why he did all he did. "You're wrong, Stefan. You left me too."  A story of four chapters. Please review.
1. There's Only So Much That I Can Take

Disclaimer: I do not and never shall own Vampire Diaries or any characters related to it.

**There's Only So Much That I Can Take**

[Damon's POV]

Fire. It used to look alive. Full of flickering, white hot flames, passion interwoven within every lick of the blazing heat. I had nearly come to die in a fire many a time. But that didn't stop me from admiring how each flame rose and fell, a hypnotic image that promises both peace and death.

I blinked. I was sitting on the floor. My back leaned heavily at the foot of the one-seat sofa, my right knee brought up to my chest. I stared listlessly at what I once thought to be a bright, warm glow before me. What I now thought only a cold, harsh flame. The heat that it emitted seemed to sear itself right through me, seeking to reach my left foot which was dangerously close.

I almost wanted it to. No, I _did_ want it to. I wanted it all to end. What was the point of living? What was the point when everything and everyone I cared for either left me, or betrayed me?

Rose... She understood me. She offered me her friendship. I took it. She gave me a reason to move forward bravely, a new resolution in how to live my life. Maybe all this suffering wasn't necessary. Maybe, one day, others wouldn't be the one leaving me. If anyone had to leave, it would be me instead.

But then, she left me too.

And I didn't know what to do.

[Stefan's POV]

_Stefan, he looked as if he was going to break apart. Like even the slightest nudge would break him completely... I looked at his eyes, Stefan. I-I didn't see any life in them. Not sadness. Not even anger. It was empty._

_When I hugged him, he didn't even respond._

I frowned, tangible lines creasing my forehead. Elena's voice ricocheted within the confines of my mind incessantly. Was it even possible? Damon had gone through more than a century without getting close to anyone. Well, not anyone that I know of. Most of the people he ever came in contact with were never seen again.

That was why I found it hard to trust him. He was too unpredictable. I could never know what he would do next.

I stopped pacing my room and sighed, brushing a hand through my hair in indecision. I was afraid, I knew. Not for what Damon might do, but for him.

Elena's last statement rebounded against the seams of mind again.

_He looked like he wanted to die._

I closed my eyes. I knew what I had to do.

* * *

><p>I found him, Damon Salvatore, my blood brother, sitting on the floor before the small sofa. Relief flooded my senses. He was okay. At least I hoped he was.<p>

"Damon?" I called out tentatively.

I waited, tense. Despite the constant rifts between us, I knew that, when Damon was upset, he was _upset_ upset. He tended to do stupid things, foolish even. Just to make himself feel better. Or maybe he didn't even know why. I honestly didn't know which.

Damon could be holding a stake to my chest in a second. Maybe less. Just because he was provoked. But, at the very least, I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Not permanently.

I took in a deep breath. "Damon," I called, this time louder and firmer.

He didn't even move. Like he hadn't even heard me. Which was impossible; he was a vampire.

I cautiously moved towards him. When I stood before him, I finally understood what Elena meant. He looked...dead. There was nothing else that could describe him. A far off look was evident in his ocean blue eyes, but other than that, there was nothing. In a flash, I was bending down right next to him.

Without thinking, I placed my hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Damon."

No response. I shook harder. "Damon."

This time, he blinked and slowly turned towards me. Confusion welled in his blue orbs before plain recognition replaced it. He shrugged my hand off.

"Stefan," he muttered stiffly. "What are you doing here?"

Both of us stood and were on the opposite ends of the room. I hadn't even moved.

"Damon," I began. "I heard about Rose-"

"Did you now?" my brother interrupted, a look of pure fury veiled in his ocean orbs. "So what do you wanna hear? Want me to tell you the whole story again?"

"Damon-"

"Well! Rose was bitten by a werewolf to save my pathetic ass, there was no cure and she died. End of story. Happy now? Are you satisfied?" Damon continued as if I hadn't spoken, his voice harsh and bitter.

I frowned. Why was he mad with me? Then again, he always was. "Damon..."

"What? Not satisfied yet? Well, brother, I won't allow you the luxury of that satisfaction. I did _not_ care about Rose. She could die all the bloody times she wants, and I _wouldn't care_." He took a deep breath, shooting a piercing glare at me.

I pursed my lips. "No, you _do_ care, Damon. Or you wouldn't be like this."

"What do you know?" Damon growled, his voice nearly a shout. "What do you know about me, _little brother_? You don't know anything. So shut. The. Hell. Up."

I stared at him unwaveringly. I was taken aback by his words. I didn't think that he would be this mad. Upset. Seeing him like this, all the more I couldn't leave him.

"Damon, stop this-"

"You stop this! Stop all of your ridiculous blabbering and leave me alone!"

Damon was near-insane. I could tell.

"Damon-"

Suddenly, I found myself slammed right into the wall. Pain shot through my back and I winced. Damon's face was inches away from mine. A look of pure, unadulterated hatred and anger dominated his features as he breathed heavily on my face.

"Get out of my sight, before I make you disappear off the face of this Earth," he hissed. "Permanently."

I narrowed my eyes. "Damon, what is _wrong_ with you?"

I was slammed into the wall again, this time harder.

"Which part of my words do you not understand?" He growled, a menacing edge creeping into his voice. "Tell me, Stefan. What is it that you want from me? Do you want me to go on my knees and beg you to leave? Is that what it takes?" His voice rose an octave higher.

"What are you talking about? I never wanted that!" Indignation flared through my entire being. Yes, there points in my life where I wanted to drive a stake through his heart with my very own hands, but I never meant any of it. Ever.

An insane smirk crossed my brother's features, his eyes gleamed. He placed his mouth right next to my ear. "Then what do you want, Stefan?" he whispered. "What do you want from me?"

I pushed him off of me and growled, "I don't want anything from you!"

He laughed, spreading his arms. "Really, my brother? If that was the case, why did you do this to me?" He glanced at me - no... He looked right through me. "_Why_?"

I stared at him, confused. "Damon?"

His stare turned hard. "Everyone I ever cared for... All of them ever only wanted you. You, Stefan Salvatore. You," he whispered bitterly. "I never once mattered."

A feeling of disbelief slammed into me as I tried to take in his words.

"You were the one who committed all those crimes, Damon. How do you expect anyone not to leave you?"

Damon dropped his gaze. "You're wrong, Stefan. Because you left me too."

**A/N:**

Please review! Let me know what you think.**  
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	2. I Blame You

Thank you for the wonderful reviews. I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not and never shall own Vampire Diaries or any characters related to it.

**I Blame You**

[Stefan's POV]

"_You're wrong, Stefan. Because you left me too."_

My eyes widened fractionally. I didn't know exactly what it was that I felt, but it was akin to that of being thrown off a cliff suddenly when you thought you were walking on perfectly flat ground. You didn't know what hit you.

I opened my mouth to speak, but there were too many words to say. I realized I didn't even know what had to be said.

"What's wrong, little brother? Too guilty?" Damon mocked, though his voice hardly held an edge to it.

He looked...tired. Like all the fight had gone out of him. Drained. Weary.

He turned away, his back facing me. I had grown to hate this over the past century and a half. Always, _always_, he seemed so far to reach. The distance between us that once had never existed had grown so apart that I forced myself to accept the fact that I had lost him.

It even came to a point when I thought I loathed him. To really have thought that I wanted him out of my life. But this...was wrong.

It was _wrong_.

Damon was my brother. I could never have left him. I never did. And I couldn't understand how he could accuse of me of leaving him.

I moistened my lips, fixing my gaze on his back. "Damon," I started, confusion lacing my voice in thick layers. "I never left you. Why would you think that I'd do something so unforgivable? You're my _brother_."

Damon whipped around, his eyes meeting mine, holding my gaze as the ice cold fire burning in his seared themselves into mine, accusing. "Exactly that, _brother_," he spat almost venomously. "You _left_ me. Of all people, _you_ had to leave me. I can forgive anyone for that, Stefan. But not you. Certainly not you."

I exhaled exasperatedly. "You're being unreasonable. You were the one who promised me an eternity of misery. I never asked for it. All I wanted was for you to live. I didn't want you to die. You cast me away, turned your back on me. Whenever we met, you'd give me hell. And _I'm_ the one who left you? Who left who, Damon?"

I stopped. Thick emotions ran through me, coursing through me, threatening to drown me in its depths. I cared for Damon. I always have, albeit realizing it a little late when I almost lost him on Founder's Day. Now, I only discovered with a pang that I missed the times when we were both human. Everything was easy and carefree, and only as complicated as a human life should be.

I really missed the Damon of old. The older brother who was always there for me. I wanted my brother back.

I glanced at my sibling in trepidation, still wary of what he might do. He eyes had strayed back to the fire, a longing in them that I didn't understand.

I sighed and took a step forward. "Damon..."

"Stop saying my name." Damon averted his gaze to me again, his countenance impassive.

"What?" I asked, taken aback.

"Stop saying my name," he repeated slowly, harshly.

I felt a frown etch itself into my forehead again. "Damon, what are-"

"I said_ to stop saying my name!_" Damon breathed heavily, his glare penetrating right through me.

I opened my mouth but he continued agitatedly. "You have everything, Stefan. Everything! The only one who had ever cared for me was mother. And she died."

"Damon, what are you talking about?" I interrupted. "Father loved you-"

"He didn't," he snapped. "He hated me, Stefan. You were always the one he preferred. The perfect one," he mocked bitterly. "I was never good enough. No matter what I did. You were always the one he saw. Then Katherine made a fool out of me."

A strange glint gleamed in his eyes. "Do you what she said, Stefan?" he paused, his voice growing softer, though intensifying all the same. "_It has always been Stefan_. Do you know how that felt, Stefan? To hear the one you loved for over a century say that it has never been you. That you were only a source of entertainment? Then, when she supposedly died all those years ago, after everything that happened, you left me."

I stilled. "I never left you."

"You did!" he growled. "I promised you an eternity of misery, Stefan. But, you-," he took a deep breath. "I searched for you one day, _one fucking day_, after that promise and you already left. I trusted you! I trusted you to always be there for me, like I had been for you. I thought, anyone could leave and hate me, Stefan, but not you. I thought that the world could walk out on me, trample on me, whatever!"

I stared at him, stunned.

Without pausing, he continued breathlessly, "I _believed _in you, Stefan. I believed that you wouldn't walk out on me. But because of one - _one_ - stupid promise, you just gave up hope in me and walked off. Like I didn't matter! Like I wasn't your brother, but some stranger you found on the street that wasn't worth your attention anymore!"

His voice dropped into a whisper, his mouth hardly moving. "After everything that we went through together, you just- you just believed that I'd do something like that to you. You believed that your brother would forsake everything just to give his little brother hell." A far-off look entered his eyes. He was looking right at me. But I was positive; he wasn't seeing me at all. "You lost faith in me, Stefan. How could you expect anyone else to do anything less?"

I blinked. A tremendous weight seemed to weigh on my shoulders as I considered his words. I couldn't deny it. There was truth in them. But I honestly thought he hated me then.

"But you said you hated me because Katherine turned me too..." I trailed off.

Damon didn't respond. Instead he just shifted his gaze towards the fire again. I inhaled deeply and stood next to him, placing my hand on his shoulder again. He stiffened.

"Damon, if I hurt you, I didn't mean it. I honestly thought you hated me," I said softly.

"I still hate you, Stefan. It was one of the hardest things I had ever tried to do, but I succeeded." A smile crossed his features, bitterly triumphant. "I want you to remember that. Whatever I did, it's your fault. Because you did this to me, Stefan."

"You had everything. You had father, Katherine, and now Elena. And everyone else, Bonnie, Caroline... I'm nothing, Stefan. I've nothing left. Even Rose is gone." He glanced at me, almost maniacally.

And, suddenly, he was standing right before me, his blue eyes searching mine curiously. His hand grabbed my shoulder tightly and I winced.

"Damon-"

"Do you know how it feels, Stefan? The feeling of being alone?" he whispered. "Imagine a century of traveling, killing, _feeding_. And another half doing the same thing again. Makes you think, doesn't it, little brother?"

He let me go, pushing me off as I stumbled backwards. I looked at him in bewilderment.

"What would you be doing a century from now? Doesn't it make your insides go all warm and fuzzy when you think of doing the same thing again and again and...again!" He walked to the end of the room before doubling-back again. "Oh wait, I forgot, you'd be doing it for all of eternity."

I watched Damon cautiously. He was tense, ready to explode. As I watched him, I felt a sense of fear overwhelm me. He was too unsteady. I didn't know what he might do next.

"Or better yet!" he continued, a cold smile flashing on his face. "Maybe someone would put an end to that eternity."

I stiffened. Suddenly, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Damon, stop it. I know you're upset, but please, calm down."

Damon stopped mid-stepped as he regarded me warily. A sudden clarity formed in his eyes. He sighed. "Just what do you want Stefan?"

"I want you to be safe," I replied calmly, a new-found sense of certainty engulfing me.

He arched his eyebrows. "I am," he muttered stonily. "Now go and leave me alone."

I unconsciously leaned forward. "Damon, I'm here for you. I won't ever leave you again. Not even if you try to chase me away."

Damon stared at me. He simply stared me while I returned the gaze unfalteringly. He looked away.

"I blame you, Stefan. For everything. There's only so much that I can take."

I straightened and realized... Damon thought that he had no one. He didn't have a choice. If he didn't pin the blame on someone, he'd destroy himself.

_What have I done?_

**A/N:**

Please review. I deeply apologize. The chapter didn't come out as great as I expected. I'm trying to focus on their character interaction, but I guess that didn't turn out too well. It's kind of boring, maybe. Let me know what you think.

I plan on writing another chapter. What do you guys think? Do you think it's worth continuing? If not, then I'll declare this story complete.

Thank you. :) Again, I would really appreciate reviews.


	3. I Don't Want To Hear It

Thank you! I really appreciate the wonderful reviews.

**Smallsizebigheart**: It makes sense. I have read many fanfics, and I know the feeling. Thank you for pointing that out for me! I will really try my utmost to better my writing based on that flaw. :)

Disclaimer: I do not and never shall own Vampire Diaries or any characters related to it.

**I Don't Want to Hear It**

[Stefan's POV]

The air left my lungs noisily. That man standing just a few feet away from me, it was so hard to believe he was once my best friend, my brother.

Everything about this moment was wrong. We shouldn't be standing so far apart. That wall brimming of such bitter negativity shouldn't even exist; it shouldn't be separating us.

I swallowed. I had always thought that the only mistake that I had made was forcing him to turn. There was no way around it. I couldn't have done anything to stop Katherine from turning me too. But...this? This was not something I had expected. Looking now at my older brother, I couldn't deny his words.

The words were true. As true as the edge of a knife.

I took a shaky breath. I _had_ to do something. I couldn't let it end like this. "Damon -"

A loud, resounding crash of glass meeting wood reverberated throughout the house as what seemed like a vase shattered into uncountable fragments, the sound itself consumed greedily by the shadows that lurked behind every corner.

I swallowed, trying to quell every one of my senses which wailed urgency to run. "Damon, listen to me." A tinge of desperation clung to my voice.

A table overturned, sending heaps of glasses to the floor.

Damon stopped, panting slightly. "I don't want to hear it. Not your apologies. Not anything," he snapped.

I pursed my lips momentarily. "Damon, please-"

"Shut. Up. Stefan."

I continued relentlessly, ignoring the biting response. "Just hear me ou-"

"I. Don't. Want. To hear it!" The shout rebounded across now silent house.

Tension rose in palpable waves between us, so thick and consuming I could hardly breathe.

Damon turned on me, his features nearly inscrutable. "If you're sorry, you'd go. If you don't want me to _rip_ your miserable heart out, you'd get out of my sight." His eyes narrowed. "_Now_."

His face cracked, the signs of an internal storm seeping out, revealing what looked like anger and desperation. _Desperation?_

I didn't want to move. I knew, if I left it at this, he would close up again, becoming even more distant than he already was.

"Oh, you don't want to?" He shot me a look of disgust. "Fine then. _I'll_ leave."

He turned on his heels and started for the door, each step sending a hollow sound echoing off the walls.

My hand instinctively reached out for him. "No! I mean, don't. Damon," I called softly.

Damon turned again and bore his gaze into mine emptily.

I hung my head in defeat. "Don't... I'll leave."

There was a long drawn-out silence.

Casting him one last withering look, I walked to the door. I knew he didn't only want me to leave; he wanted me out of the house. At least, until he calmed down.

Just as I reached the door, I paused.

"But only because you want me to."

**A/N:**

I am so sorry I posted this up so late! I'm in the middle of my examinations right now, and I've totally screwed up for some papers.

I know this chapter is insanely boring and maybe not up to expectations, plus it's very short, but please bear with me. My mind's too lost in the world of science right now.

I didn't mean for the chapter to end this way. There's supposed to be more, but I figured you guys wouldn't want to wait that long. Better post up something rather than nothing. Well, that's what I prefer. I decided to make one last chapter. Real indecisive, aren't I?

Will be mostly in Damon's POV.

Next and **final** update most likely next week, right when my examinations end. Please review and tell me your thoughts!

Thank you!


	4. An Incident and a Promise

Thank you for the reviews. :) I love you guys.

Since mostly is in Damon's POV, I really tried to him make in character as possible. Do tell me if I failed in that aspect.

Disclaimer: I do not and never shall own Vampire Diaries or any characters related to it.

**An Incident and a Promise**

[Damon's POV]

A lump formed in my throat. I heard Stefan leave the house quietly, his every footstep leaving what seemed to be traces of hurt and regret.

His words echoed within the confines of my mind again.

_Only because you want me to_.

I nearly smiled in bemusement. When had I ever wanted him to leave? No, wait. I did.

He surprised me again... Stefan. I never thought him to come. Elena must have told him what had transpired with Rose. And me. But that was just _Stefan_. If it didn't make him feel better, I doubt I would even see a single trace of him tonight. But what surprised me more than his unexpected appearance was my reaction. I didn't even know where those words came from. So uncalled for... But everything I did was uncalled for, no? What I wanted, what I did, it was all done at my own whim.

Not that I wanted to say all that. I thought I had forgotten it all. But then again, your past just loved to catch up with you and smack you right on the face when you really don't need it to.

And look where that got me.

A miserable wreck.

A sigh escaped my lips. I cast the door one last look, almost pleading. A frown creased my forehead almost immediately. What was wrong with me today?

I looked down briefly and tried to calm the storm of feelings inside of me. It was overwhelming. It was _burning_ with such intensity, it wanted to explode; it wanted to get out. It hammered my mind with sharp pricks, poked and nudged at the edge of my sanity, congealing, twisting, churning where my heart was to be found.

I placed my hand over my heart, clutching the thin fabric that separated it from my skin. I could make all this go away. In a matter of seconds. Switch if off. Turn it down. Lock it away and throw away the keys where it can't be found.

A part of me wanted me to, and questioned why I did not.

Another part of me tugged me away from doing so, pulled me away from the sweet sensation of nihility.

I wanted to hate that part of me.

I swallowed. I shifted my attention to the only source of heat in the room again. It was so warm...

My shoulders slumped. I felt my hollow heart dig yet another hole gaping in its wake. It felt so empty I wondered how I still came to be alive.

I bit my lip and heaved in a deep, heavy breath. _Damn it, Damon. Wake up. This is no time for moping. What if someone comes in?_

That was all it took for me to start for my usual seat. I couldn't care less if anyone found me this way. Heck, a handful of people have seen me this way. Just that none of them lived to tell the tale.

Unfortunately for me now, I couldn't just kill anyone who came in through that front door. After all, not just anyone comes here.

Even as I walked forward, my right foot got stuck at the edge of the carpet. I stumbled forward, losing my sense of balance completely and met the floor with a dull thud. I didn't even try to break my fall. The pain was oddly comforting.

It took me a few seconds to get my mind working. I forced my arms beneath me, pushing myself to sit up. Leaving my legs in an awkward position, I simply sat there, lost within the tumbling cycles of my own mind.

I honestly didn't understand. I felt so tired. Everything that had only just recently happened seemed to have strained me beyond a point I've never reached before.

Trying to find the cure (and failing), searching for Rose, driving a stake through her heart... Talking to Elena. That fight with Stefan. It suddenly all seemed too much.

My thoughts began to sputter, as if their path had been torn apart. It was as if someone had taken a hammer and hit my head a tad too many a time with it. Nothing made sense anymore. All that seemed to be left were the jagged memories and flitting thoughts, left to stitch themselves together into a broken mess. _In_ a broken mess.

It was simply irreparable.

I tried to clear my mind. The last time I fed was... Oh. A few days ago. The sudden _emotional_, I internally cringed at the word, outburst certainly didn't help to preserve my energy. Huh, gracing Rose with that final dream must have taken a greater toll on me than I thought it would too. I should have been able to last another few more days.

I grunted. Blood. I needed blood.

But it seemed so far away, and I was so tired... I sighed. Another few minutes wouldn't hurt, right?

Actually, it did. My thoughts seemed to go into overdrive, pressing against the edges of my skull. The headache pounded against my consciousness like nothing else did, sharp, stabbing pains that wouldn't go away. I made the mistake of shaking my head in an attempt to rid myself of it, only to aggravate the pain.

"Damn headache," I muttered.

This headache was nothing compared to what I have gone through my entire lifetime, but pain was pain. And pain meant hurt.

I leaned back heavily on whatever it was behind me. Heck, I was so tired. I couldn't be bothered to turn. It must be one of the couches or table.

Another soft breath escaped my lips.

I couldn't help it. I didn't want it to, but within the recesses of my mind which contained all the things I didn't want to remember, bit by bit, it started to crumble apart. Just like it always had every few decades.

I felt my jaw tighten. My throat constricted.

I couldn't help but remember the things I had gained and lost all at the same time. Mother, holding my hand as a tear glistened in her eye, as her heart beat for the final time; Father, eyeing me in disapproval and disappointment no matter what I did; Katherine, who treated me as one would a fool, and doing it all over again a century and a half later; and Rose... Having offered me her friendship, only to take it away a few hours later.

Elena, Stefan... I lost them too, in a way. Not that it wasn't my fault.

I blinked half-heartedly, willing the salty droplets to disappear.

If only I succeeded.

I didn't want to admit it, but the words Rose had uttered haunted me. I had lived the majority of my vampire life with my feelings tucked away. At least, no matter what would happen, I would still have that option to switch it all off.

I couldn't imagine facing eternity without that option. The very knowledge that, one day, I'd have to move forward with that choice taken away from me... That I'd have to _pretend _not to feel - forever. It scared the hell out of me.

Rose survived. But that didn't mean I could. She had Trevor. And when he died, she had me. I had initially thought that, if anything, I would survive too. She'd be there too, no? We'd survive together, along with keeping regular checks on Stefan to make sure he didn't land face first into trouble again.

But then, she died.

So how was I to survive?

Somehow, she understood me, in a way. I didn't have to be..._Damon_ as I was to Stefan to her. She saw right through me.

She didn't make judgments. And that was all it took for me to warm to her. I didn't love her. But she gave me hope.

I couldn't stand it. Throughout my life, I had only lost and lost. What I gained, whatever momentary happiness that had ever graced me only faded with time. I hated Stefan. He had everything. And, I had nothing.

Nothing but time.

How does someone move forward, carrying years and years of unwanted memories? How does that someone survive?

I didn't know the answer to that. Sometimes, I wondered if I ever would find out.

My head continued to throb, dulling my senses. My train of thought paused as I realized something.

I blinked. The feelings...dimmed somewhat.

I felt myself freeze as an idea - twisted as it was - formed in my mind. I shifted. I knew I wasn't thinking, but I didn't even care. Soon, I found myself staggering to my feet, nearly falling again as feeling finally returned to my legs.

I didn't wait.

I jerked myself forward and practically fell to my knees before the flames.

The irony.

It was always the warmth of the hearth that I would seek whenever something bad happened. So it was when my mother died, when Emily had destroyed my chances of saving Katherine, when I realized that she wasn't even in the tomb all those years.

I didn't seek the fire when Stefan left though. There wasn't any use. Nothing could have warmed my dead heart.

My gaze bore into the flickering orange-red flames. It seemed to brighten my surroundings, welcoming, drawing me in.

I felt something inside of me tug myself towards it, ignoring the part which screamed in protest.

Fire meant danger. Danger meant possible death.

I shoved the rational part of my mind further into my mind. I wasn't going to die because of some fire in my very own house.

It was almost in a trance that I reached forward almost tentatively, my attention focused entirely on flames.

It wasn't curiousity anymore. It was dire _need_.

My fingers closed around the edge of a wooden stick, the edge set aglow, red-hot. I pulled it towards me curiously. It looked so...enticing.

I tightened my grip. I knew what I had to do.

I slowly tipped it downward towards my skin.

* * *

><p>[Stefan's POV]<p>

I didn't know what made me came back.

It wasn't that I wasn't fearful of his wrath. I was.

But I wasn't going to be selfish anymore. Whether he liked it or not, whether _I_ was afraid or not, I was going to go back.

It didn't matter if he walked away. I'd follow, always.

I owe him that.

I stepped back into the house tentatively, wondering if, at any moment, he was going to pop out of thin air to deal with me.

I suppressed the urge to gulp.

I never really knew I feared him so much. He had hurt me before, and threatened me my life. I just knew he wouldn't kill me.

But I wasn't so sure anymore. Damon was known to be foolhardy and impulsive, especially when he was thrown over the edge.

Once, when I had chosen to forcefully make him turn, I had naively believed that the love between us as brothers would eventually make everything alright. That he would forgive me.

I had never been so wrong.

I shook my head. Now was not the time to brood.

That was when I smelled a strange tinge of something burning in the air. I could hardly sense it, but it was there. My eyebrows knotted in confusion. _Burning?_

Forgetting my previous fear, I followed the scent cautiously. There weren't any hearts beating. No humans.

I could sense Damon still in the room he was in previously. The room where the smell was coming from.

In less than a second, I was in the room.

In all honesty, I wasn't prepared for the spectacle I was being witness to. Ice cold fire clenched over my heart, twisting it painfully. My eyes widened in mute horror, my mouth gaping slightly. _What was he doing?_

Damon was holding a wooden stick in his right hand, dragging the glowing tip across his other arm in sick patterns. His blue orbs were nearly glazed over, though they were seemingly bright, as if the heat gave it new purpose. I watched him, frozen, as he flicked the stick away, leaning forward simultaneously to grab another piece of wood.

I couldn't describe it. The edges of my vision blurred, tinted red. Infuriation of the utmost intensity shot through me, almost like electricity, replacing the shock and fear just as quickly as it had appeared. My fangs appeared and I let out a furious snarl.

I lunged.

* * *

><p>[Damon's POV]<p>

I felt my senses dull again as I pressed the glowing tip harder into my skin. I watched in morbid fascination as my skin turned a sickly gray before healing itself into pink scars along my arm.

I barely cast the wood another glance before throwing it aside. It wasn't hot anymore. Not enough. I leaned forward, intent on grabbing another piece of wood.

I heard a feral snarl. _What the... I didn't hear anyone come in._

Alarm shot through me. Before I could as much as blink, I was jerked backward roughly by my collar and slammed into the wall - hard. I winced.

My vision blurred slightly but cleared after a moment, finding myself face to face with...

Stefan.

I narrowed my eyes.

This had to be one unlucky day.

"What the hell?" I muttered as my skull throbbed in pain. "Let go of me, Stefan."

A hiss rumbled in Stefan's throat as he shot me a death glare. He glanced downward, eyeing the list of pink lines marking my arm no doubt. He snapped his head back up. Baring his fangs at me, he moved to grab my collar. He pulled me inches off the wall and slammed my head against the unforgiving wood again, this time even harder.

My headache returned full-force, pounding against my mind.

"Stop that!" I growled angrily. I could hardly think. Things were happening way too fast.

"Is there something insanely wrong with your brain, Damon?" Stefan demanded, fury lacing his every word. His eyes never left mine.

"No," I retorted hoarsely. "But yours does. Now let go of me."

His oak green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. Snarling, he slammed me into the wall again.

Black spots started to dance before my eyes. A soft whimper escaped my throat. I felt my energy to fight back slipping.

"Stop that," I snapped weakly. "It hurts!"

Stefan tightened his grip on my collar. "That hurt, Damon?" he hissed. "I'm doing you a favor. From what I saw, you seemed to _like _pain."

"None of your business, Stefan." I tried to push him off of me, but it was in vain.

Damn it. I should have gone off to feed just now.

I saw his knuckles turn white. I could see the rage glinting in his eyes. The same rage that was present when I killed Lexi.

But I didn't feel anything. All I could feel was the drastic hammering in my skull. Quick, sharp _pain_ shot through every corner of my consciousness, made worse by the relentless hits my head had taken.

It _hurt_.

I stifled a groan and glowered as profoundly as I could at Stefan. I knew he noticed my defiance. Maybe that was what drove him to do what he did next.

I never expected that. I never thought Stefan to do that. Well, if I was the one doing it, it wasn't all that unexpected.

Stefan's grip on me suddenly disappeared for a moment. Before I could even stagger a step forward, he was standing before me again, holding something in his hand.

Hardly gritting his teeth, he drove the stake right beneath my heart.

I gasped and widened my eyes in shock. Pain tore through my exhausted body, this time, heightening every one of my senses. I knew it would fade with time, but it certainly didn't help to quell my jumbled-up thoughts.

I clutched the stake instinctively, already sliding to the floor as the energy needed to support my weight drained away. My legs buckled and I fell, my back against the wall. My fingers closed around the stake again. I tried to pull it out but my clammy fingers only slid off the wood. This wasn't all that similar when he stabbed me at this very same spot in revenge for his best friend.

I wasn't drained then. I was now.

I glanced upwards and our eyes met.

"You..." I panted slightly, forcing myself to continue. "You stabbed me," I finished incredulously.

Stefan Salvatore stabbed me. My little brother. Me.

This was...new.

"Seems like my little bro has grown up," I choked out, breathing heavily.

I moaned. Bad move.

I gritted my teeth and gave one last try to pull out the stake when another set of fingers closed around mine and pulled.

Another bout of agony racked my body. My vision started to flicker. A figure moved in front of me and clutched my shoulders. He shook me wildly, aggravating the sharp streaks of pain.

"Oh my god. Damon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to! I was so mad. I wasn't thinking. Damon? Damon!"

He shook me harder.

"Stop that," I muttered hoarsely.

I shifted my head and cringed. What the hell? This wasn't supposed to be happening.

I stared at Stefan dully. He stared at me wide-eyed, guilt and concern shadowing his features.

"Damon? Are you alright?" he whispered, his voice imbued with worry.

I would have laughed if I could. I coughed painfully.

"Do I look alright to you?" I thought about that and added, "I'm fine."

He bit his lip. I pressed my hand onto the stab wound and winced. His eyes trailed the movement of my hand and he frowned. He carefully pulled my hand away despite my protests and touched the wound. Not gently.

I hissed.

He looked at me. "You're not healing," Stefan muttered in confusion.

I mustered the energy to roll my eyes. "I can feel that, you moron."

I couldn't suppress the gasp that left my mouth as both my mind and the wound attacked me with another round of torture.

"Damon?"

I continued to gasp pitifully. I couldn't bring myself to respond. The pain was all I could think about.

My sense of sight lost focus.

"Damon!" Stefan cried out.

My eyelids slid shut.

* * *

><p>[Stefan's POV]<p>

"Damon?"

My brother started to gasp, each one hitting me hard. His eyes started to lose what little vitality that was left.

"Damon!" I cried out.

Panic gushed into me as I watched Damon's cold, blue orbs disappear behind his eyelids. _What have I done?_

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, uncaring as to whether it caused him pain. If it made him wake up...

"Come on, Damon. Wake up," I pleaded. "Don't do this to me."

The panic intensified.

I took a deep breath and gathered him in my arms. I could feel his blood staining my shirt, escaping the body I caused to bleed.

I settled him gently on the couch. Blood. He needed blood.

It took me only a few seconds to grab four blood bags from the basement, leaving the room in a mess. I propped myself on my knees and tore the cap off the first bag.

Carefully, I tilted Damon's head upward, my left arm clutching his back as his head rolled against my shoulder, his black hair tickling my neck. I tipped the bag slightly towards his mouth, watching the blood drip inside slowly. Noticing no reaction, I quickened my pace, the alarm only growing.

_Come on, Damon..._

Damon's eyes snapped open. His mouth sputtered as he coughed some blood out, red spots forming on the carpet. He gasped heavily.

I dropped the blood bag and held him closely. I rubbed his back softly as he leaned over the couch, heaving.

"Damon? Are you okay?"

He slowly moved back, seeming to have not noticed that he was leaning against me, and stared at me almost accusingly.

"What were you thinking?" he panted. "Were you planning to choke me?"

His voice, though harsh but worn, immediately calmed me down. Relief flooded me so suddenly it was near incapacitating.

"Well?" he demanded.

"N-no, I wasn't. I...panicked. I'm sorry," I answered softly.

He stared at me for a moment before looking away. He muttered something indecipherable.

"What was that?" I asked curiously.

He flicked his focus back to me and snapped, "It's nothing, Stefan. Leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell me you were drained?" I pressed.

"Never you mind," he muttered darkly. "Besides, you should have already guessed."

I sighed. "Don't do this, Damon."

"I'm not doing anything."

I pursed my lips. "Oh yeah? What was that that I saw just now? Was that done out of fun then?"

I felt the anger return but I kept it in check. If I lost control... Damon still was drained.

"Well?" I echoed his words.

Damon glared at me. "None. Of. Your. Business. _Stefan_."

He moved to get out of my grasp but I held him firmly. He hissed. "Let go of me."

"No can do, Damon. Not until we solve this," I replied coolly. "Right now."

His fists clenched. "I don't need this right now," he growled. He turned on me. "What about you, huh?"

I arched an eyebrow at him.

"You stabbed me," he deadpanned.

I felt the guilt return. I stared at Damon silently, hardly believing I had hurt him again.

The silence fell over us like a shroud.

"I'm not going to sit here and waste my time, Stefan." Damon's voice broke the silence.

"I'm sorry." I tightened my hold on him slightly. "Damon. Damon, look at me."

He turned, his weary blue orbs meeting mine.

"We're going to work through this. Together." I searched his face pleadingly.

His lips thinned, a frown creeping onto his forehead. He turned away. "Let go of me, Ste-"

"Damon, please."

"I won't leave, Stefan. Just...just let go of me."

I considered. If he was going to cooperate, it would be very much easier... I let go of him.

Damon immediately was off the couch. I swiveled to see him settle himself on the chair furthest from me.

"Don't you want to lie down?" I asked, worried. "We can switch places."

He eyed me cautiously. "I'm fine," he answered.

I gestured towards the blood bags on the floor. "Take some? You'll feel better."

"I'm fine," he repeated, accentuating the last word with a roll of his eyes. "Just get this over and done with, little brother."

I thought about it. "Some bourbon?"

"Headache."

"You need blood."

"Can do without."

"Damon..."

He didn't answer.

"Just take it. If it were me, you'd have shoved that entire blood bag down my throat."

He stared at me, mildly amused. "With the bag?"

"Just drink that blood, will you?"

A flicker of annoyance flashed across his countenance. "Look, Stefan. It's...easier, to deal with this without having a clear mind."

He looked away.

I straightened, catching his meaning. "Okay... I understand." I nodded.

He sighed. "So get the party moving, Stef."

I cocked an eyebrow at the nickname but didn't comment. Instead, I played around with the edge of my shirt.

"Why'd you do it?" I began softly.

I heard him shift slightly. "Do what?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Maybe I don't."

I growled. "Don't play dumb with me. Answer the question."

Damon fell silent.

"It's really none of your business, Stefan. Stay out of it." The words were so soft I had to strain to hear it.

"Stay out of it?" I repeated in disbelief. "If you saw me _hurting_ myself deliberately with fire and wood to boot, would _you_ have stayed out of it?"

"Of course not," he replied immediately.

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

He eyed me warily. "What? _I _am the older brother here."

I exhaled noisily. "That's crap and you know it."

"I don't care."

The silence that so often intruded our conversation asserted itself once again, a gap born of equal parts of weariness, familiarity and the many differences that fate had created between us.

I looked down. "Damon, please. I'm begging you. Let me help you."

"And what if I don't need help?" he retorted.

"If you don't need help, you wouldn't have become all suicidal, Damon," I snapped.

He scoffed derisively. "Who's suicidal?"

I stared at him pointedly.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not suicidal, Stefan. If I was, I would've been dead by now."

He looked at me uncomfortably. "Look, little brother. I was...just a bit down and upset, alright? I wasn't thinking. I don't know how that happened. It just did. It felt..."

I lifted an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. "It felt?" I prompted.

His shoulders slumped, as if he was too tired trying to carry on his façade. "Better," he muttered.

The world seemed to stop in its tracks.

Damon Salvatore felt better when there was self-inflicted pain. He felt _better_ by taking the glowing red-hot tip of _wood_ and pressing it against his skin.

I wondered if I had ever heard anything worse than that in my life.

"Damon, do you realize that you're talking about _self_-inflicting pain? This isn't a small matter. I won't let you brush it off as one."

He pressed his lips tightly together, ignoring my words. I looked at him, really looked at him. How did he become like this? Why - how - did I not notice it?

"Was it me?" I whispered.

He looked up, shooting me a quizzical stare.

"Was I reason that made you feel that you had to hurt yourself to feel better?"

He leaned back against the chair and frowned, fidgeting. It took him a moment to answer. "Stefan, will you stop that stupid habit of yours? It's not your fault alright? I told you, I felt down. I wanted to make it go away."

I sighed. "Damon, what made you think that, by hurting yourself, it'd go away?"

Damon's dark strands of hair covered his eyes, ruffled out of their usual style when I had carried him.

I felt a deep sense of exasperation. "Damon, I am _here_ for you. Always. I wasn't here for you then, but I am now. You just have to open your eyes and see it. Talk to me. Please?"

I could have sworn I detected faint traces of guilt creep into his features. "I didn't. I felt it. It did go away, Stefan." His voice dropped into a whisper. "It really did."

He groaned.

I sat up immediately. "Damon?"

He dropped himself to the floor and cursed. I grabbed a blood bag and threw it onto his lap.

"Drink."

He complied without complaint, gulping the blood down in large amounts. Once he was done, he threw it aside and breathed heavily. "You know what this means, don't you?"

He continued, not waiting for me to answer, "Blood means no headache. And no headache means..."

His pale face was already regaining its colour. Not for the first time, I was thankful that vampires healed so fast. Seeing my brother, _Damon Salvatore_, hurt was not something I wanted to go through again. But if he did get hurt, I'd always want to be there.

I shot him a dirty look. "Why don't I throw you in the basement to drain you off a bit then?"

"I dare you to."

"Don't test me, Damon. I just might."

He looked at me in amusement. "I can always continue to make good my promise of an eternity of misery, Stef. Because a century and a half of misery is a pretty short time when you compare it to eternity."

"Whatever, Damon. You -"

I froze.

Damon droned on, regardless of my interruption. "That oh so dreaded conversation can wait another time. Wait for it, Stefan." A thoughtful look came over his features. "Maybe when I'm drunk."

He stopped and flicked his gaze at me. "What's wrong with you?"

I shook myself out of it. "Nothing."

"Whatever to you too. Bye-bye now." Damon grabbed another two blood bags and stood up, already heading for the door.

A seed of fear planted itself in my heart as I watched Damon retreat from the room. What if Damon did it again? And what if I wasn't there to stop him?

I breezed towards him and touched his shoulder firmly. He stiffened.

"What?"

"Promise me you won't do it again."

"Do what?"

I rolled my eyes. "Damon," I chided.

A small smile graced his features.

"Well?" I demanded.

"You have my word, alright? Now, shoo. Your big brother has to catch some beauty sleep. Big day today, you know."

I returned the smile. "I'm holding you to it."

Maybe, for once, Damon would keep his promise.

Because, that promise of an eternity of misery? I realized he had stopped delivering it a long time ago.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

I'm so sorry for the very late update. I don't think I did this chapter well. Kind of rushed it through. I am out of fan fiction writing for the next five months. Maybe a few dabbles here and there.

I'm going to take my major examination in five months time. Unfortunately, we all have our priorities, and sometimes, fan fiction isn't at the top.

Well, please review~ I will greatly appreciate it.

Thank you.

~ Immersion


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